


Leave It All Behind You

by ThatCertainNutLady



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, F/F, Gen, Kidnapping, Moira is a sadistic bitch i love her, Psychological Trauma, Talon Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Talon!Tracer, Torture, Torture tw, forced widowtracer?, poor Lena, poor amelie, poor everyone tbh, poor gabe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCertainNutLady/pseuds/ThatCertainNutLady
Summary: A small fic where Talon kidnaps the Overwatch Agent Tracer and turns her into their weapon





	1. Shock

Being strapped to a chair wasn’t alarming at all for Lena Oxton; she had been in this position many times before. None of those times had been very pleasant for the ex-pilot, but she wasn’t worried. The Bad Doctor loomed above her, tightening the straps on her wrists with a sneer. 

“So, Oxton. Are you ready for your monthly checkup?” She asked, pinching a wire to Lena’s arm. Moira was known for her sadistic tendencies, and she loved to take out her anger on Lena, her little lab rat. Lena only nodded and grinned back at the poised face just inches from her own. 

“Sure, love. What are the questions this time?” 

The doctor only smiled wider, grabbing a clipboard and a small button, holding it gently in her mangled hand. 

“Oh, just the usual easy ones. I’m sure you won’t cause me much trouble this time, will you dear?” Her voice was smooth, with a hint of delight at the still figure that was bound and chained--just for her. She hooked up all of the wires protruding from Lena’s body to an electromagnetic core, shortening out her chronal accelerator and allowing her to poke and prod at the young woman’s flesh. Oh, this would be fun. 

“Question one, and do try to answer these to the best of your abilities, what is your name?” Moira asked, her finger lightly caressing the tip of the button. Lena looked her straight into her heterochromatic eyes. 

“Lena Oxton.” She said, loud and clear. 

“Question two, what is your affiliation?” The Bad Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. Lena only sighed, relaxing back in her restraints. 

“Talon.” She didn’t want to add any snark to her answers in case the Doctor was feeling a bit sadistic. Moira only smiled, writing down notes as she went along. 

“Alright, dear. Question three,” She paused for a second, “...who do you belong to?” 

Lena was perplexed. “I beg your pardon?”

The doctor tapped her foot impatiently. “Answer the question, Oxton.” 

“Talon?” She genuinely didn’t know the answer. The Bad Doctor only shook her head.   
“Wrong answer, dearie.” 

Lena gripped the handles of the chair, trying to find a way to escape. “No...no...wait…”

“Too late.”   
The bad doctor rammed the button in, grinning while she did it. In less than a second, thousands of tiny nanomachines would activate, electrocuting Tracer from the inside out. God, she loved watching her lab-rats squirm. 

Lena’s screams filled the small room they were in, her fingers gripping the metallic seat she was fastened to. God, it hurt. Thousands of cramps echoed throughout her body, seizing her muscles and making her spasm out of control. She couldn’t even speak--only scream out from the immense pain that the doctor bestowed upon her battered body. 

“Now, stop your complaining. That was just the lowest setting, dear.” The doctor chuckled when she pressed the button again to stop the flow of electricity. Lena’s mind jolted back into place when the tightening of her muscles stopped, her breaths drawn out by Moira’s sharp glare. 

“Let’s try that again. Question three, who do you belong to?” Moira adjusted the paper on the clipboard and kept her finger on the button. Lena shook her head. 

“I don’t know.” 

Moira didn’t even hesitate this time, ramping up the voltage and pressing the button down once again, the room filling with a louder scream. Oh, how she loved to toy with the little Brit. 

“Lena, you know who you belong to.” The doctor sighed, letting the electricity freely flow into her body. Her face inched closer to Lena’s, not at all bothered by the hectic screaming and tears falling from Lena’s cheeks. “Me. You. Belong. To. Me.” 

She stood back and watched the woman struggle in front of her. “Are you ready to answer correctly?” 

“Y-yes.” Lena sputtered out, hunching forward when the electricity was cut off again.

“Question three, who do you belong to?” Moira quirked an eyebrow, watching with glee as her little lab rat unraveled beneath her fingers. 

“You.” Her response was short, but it was all Lena needed to say. 

“That’s right. See, you can learn!” She chuckled, letting a sharp talon trace over her victim’s features. “I own you, Oxton. Ever since you betrayed your little friends at Overwatch, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you. And now you’re all mine.” 

The Brit whimpered at her touch, letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks. “I’m yours.” She repeated, staring blankly into Moira’s eyes. 

“I’m yours.”

The Bad Doctor knelt down to her little project’s level, examining her vitals. 

“Yes, you are. Remember, you chose this, Oxton. If you expect me to take pity on you, you are sadly mistaken.” Moira said, brushing a stray hair behind her head. “Tell me, do you regret joining Talon now?”

Lena shook her head furiously. “No, no, no…” Her words trailed off before she could say anything else. 

“Hmph. Good. Because you know Overwatch wouldn’t take you back. To them, you’re nothing more than a dirty traitor; someone who should be killed on sight. A threat. And that’s why we give you refuge, dear.” The madwoman coos, running her good hand through the Brit’s hair. “And you know that if you ran, you couldn’t ever hide from us. Not from me.” 

“I know,” Lena sobbed, pressing her head to Moira’s soft, warm hand. “I wouldn’t leave you. Never. Never ever!” 

“Good girl.” 

The doctor pressed the button once again, her sultry eyes closing as the woman’s screams erupted throughout the room. Tracer was clawing at the chair, making her short fingernails bleed with the grip she was applying. Moira stood up, brushing her hand off on her coat and put the clipboard down onto a countertop next to her. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Lena. I’ll leave the chair on at a low setting. You’ll thank me later.” She smirked, turning the dial down all the way. Lena’s screams wavered, forcing her to choke back tears.

“NO! DON’T LEAVE ME--” 

But the doctor was already gone, the door to the Medical Unit slammed shut and locked. Screams and cackles of insanity could be heard behind the stainless steel door, and Moira could only tilt her head up and smile her cheshire grin. 

Her toy would have to wait. She’s busy now.


	2. Meanwhile...

Three knocks on the tall oak door. 

“Akande? I must speak with you.” Moira asks casually, examining her nails as she waits for her colleague to answer. “It is, ahem, urgent.” 

The door opens, and the face behind it is less than impressed. 

“Well? What have you, doctor?” The brash voice that could only belong to Ogundimu made Moira smile, tilting her head in respect to her superior. 

“I was going to notify you about Oxton’s treatment. She seems to be taking it rather well.” The madwoman smirks before folding her hands behind her back and raising her chin. “She didn’t like the procedures today, mind you. But I am working, as I always do, to please and to get results. Our little Tracer won’t be remembering much after I’m done with her.”   
Akande frowned, stepping aside so that he could let the doctor in to his office. 

“Be careful with your words, Moira. I worked too hard to convince Oxton to defect to our side, and I will not tolerate losing her so early on.” 

“Of course, friend.” Moira replied with a sultry grin, “I’ve only done the necessary tests and experiments to the girl. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Good. Because if I hear as much as a whisper of something that shouldn’t have happened to her went through, I will personally make sure you learn not to disobey me.” He said nonchalantly as he pulled out a chair behind his desk and sat, resting his chin on his knuckles. “I want her to become loyal, and severe torture will only make her want to run away.” 

“Believe me, Ogundimu, I’ve made it clear to her that Overwatch would never accept her back, even if she did make a successful escape from us. We are all she has left, and she knows it. She won’t be wanting to run away any time soon.” 

The doctor strides up to his desk, her hand oh-so gently sliding up his arm to calm him from a fit of anger that was bound to strike at any moment. “Patience, Akande. Lena Oxton will eventually die out, and our very own Tracer will rise from the ashes. Just like Reaper. Just like Widowmaker. There is nothing to be afraid of. Besides, as of now, she is quite enjoying her monthly checkup, if I do say so myself.” Moira’s heterochromatic eyes shone with a touch of hysteria as she mentioned the torture happening to Oxton right this second. The torture she unfortunately had to miss out on in order to keep her job, and quite possibly her head.

Akande’s hands clench into tight fists before relaxing at Moira’s odd touch. He shook off her hand, nodding his head in agreement. “You seem to know what you are doing, Doctor. I will do my own personal checkups on her this evening, to make sure she is developing correctly.” 

“Of course, Akande, you are welcome to drop by at any time~” Moira bows her head, turning on her heels towards the door behind her. 

She walked out with vigor, able to hear the echoes of screams from her lab. Ah, yes. Her little pet was still having her fun. Perhaps the doctor would give her sweet relief. 

Perhaps not.

She quirked a brow as she walked past her unit, glancing through the window. It seemed that her pet was still enjoying her punishments, much to her delight. She’d let her sit there for a while longer. No need to rush things. 

Lena’s throat had been stripped raw, her hoarse screams echoing in the room. The occasional twitch rippled through her body, a possible side effect of the activated nanomachines swimming through her arteries and veins. 

Lena hunched forward in her chair, trying to rip herself from her restraints.

Let. Me. Go. Or. I. Am. Going. To. Snap.

“I SEE YOU, DOCTOR.” 

Moira turned her head away from the window and smirked to herself before strutting away, her hand on her hip. If Lena could speak, she could handle the torture for a few more hours. 

“LET ME GO.” 

Her voice echoed down the hallways as the Geneticist looked for a new toy to play with. 

 

A thought struck her as she stopped in her own tracks, her hand snapping from her hand to her chin. Oh yes, she had plans for Oxton, but they would have to wait. For now, she’d visit her little Reyes of sunshine! 

He would most likely be hiding in his room, muttering sweet, sweet nothings under his breath. 

The Reaper was Moira’s biggest failure, and she didn’t intend to repeat the mistakes and shortcomings she had faced while turning him into a weapon for her own amusement. Now he simply roamed about on his own free will, occasionally plotting his crazed ‘revenge’ he was obsessed with. The Doctor made a mental note to not use her cattle prod on her newest toy, or else the Brit might just snap. She wouldn’t want another Gabe, would she? 

“Gabey Wabey~” The doctor stuck her head through the archway that marked off the entrance to the Reaper’s dwelling. 

“Leave me alone…” A raspy voice sounded from the back corner of the room. There he was, the pathetic excuse of a man was huddled in a pool of his own vomit. His mask and cloak were strewn across the floor of the room. 

“You’re disgusting, Gabriel, you know that?” She smirked, prodding an empty shotgun with the toe of her shoe. “I’m kidding, Reyes. Tracer’s enjoying some alone time, and I’ve idle hands,” Moira fluttered her mangled fingers, “It’s a shame that Oxton won’t be as fun to mess with. Akande’s getting quite attached to her.” 

“DON’T TALK ABOUT HER, MOIRA. GET OUT.” 

“Fine,” The doctor replied cooly, “I didn’t think you would of all people would care, honestly. I’d think you’d be happy to see her among our ranks. I certainly was when I heard I could have Overwatch’s poster-girl all to myself. You could have a bit of her, as well, Gabriel. I’m willing to share my pet.” 

“LEAVE.” The shadows around the room started to collect in the center. “GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT.”

“Oh Gabe, I love it when you’re rough~” The doctor grinned as her devilish little wraith appeared in front of her. She caressed his cheek, letting him fall into her grasp once again. “I’ll let Oxton know you’d like to speak with her. Maybe you could teach her a thing or two.” 

“DON’T SAY HER NAME. YOU DON’T DESERVE IT--” 

The Reaper’s words were cut off as Moira’s gentle touches turned into a deathly grip around his throat. She squeezed, letting his talons rake at her arms. 

“Oh Gabriel, you’re feeling sentimental, aren’t you? How cute. You know, Lena’s down the hall being tortured, right? They gave her to me; a little pet to toy with, all to myself. Can you believe it? The postergirl for Overwatch, calling out my name!” 

Moira cupped her mangled hand around his jaw, softly turning his head to look her straight in the eye. 

“Would you like to see what she’s become?”

“LET. ME. GO.” The Reaper choked out, spattering a black liquid all over the doctor’s jacket as he spoke. Moira frowned in distate and released her death grip on his throat. Gabriel Reyes slunk to the floor in shame.

 

“Oh, now you’ve done it. I’ll make sure I’ll have a talk with Akande about your behavior, Gabriel~” The doctor cooed, wiping the filth off of her shoulder. “I really should get back to Lena. She’ll have her indictment ceremony soon, and you won’t want to miss it!” 

The Reaper watched as the doctor left his chambers, reaching out to nothingness as his world became cold again. 

Blackness ensued. Death comes.


	3. Dreams

“Em, stop teasing me!” Lena giggled, leaning in to nuzzle her girlfriend’s shoulder. The faint scent of vanilla and cherries filling her mind as she felt soft lips trail over her neck, kissing it every once in a while. Emily’s arms wrapped around her girlfriend and hugged her tighter.

“Mmh, it’s what you get for leaving me alone for three weeks.” The redhead mumbled, pressing tiny kisses all over her shoulders and collarbone. “You had me scared to death.” 

“Em, please, the mission wasn’t that bad!” Lena yelped as Emily bit softly on a tender part of her neck. “Okay, okay...you win.” 

Lena adjusted herself on top of her lover’s lap and leaned in for a kiss, soft and sweet. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed Emily more than anyone else whenever she had to leave for a mission. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t come back. You know that if that damn Strike Commander makes you do anymore reckless things, I’ll march myself right over to Switzerland and beat his arse.” Emily whispered, looking into her girlfriend’s amber eyes. 

“Please Em, don’t go getting all mad because of Numbani. Besides, you know how many people we saved? Just because I was compromised doesn’t mean that it was a failed mission.” Lena said, glancing over at her charging accelerator in the corner. 

“I know,” Emily said, hugging her tighter, “I only want what’s best for you.” 

Lena smiled, content. “Yeah, I do too.” 

SNAP

W A K E U P

Lena tried opening her eyes for the first time in days. Everything was blurry, and her eyes couldn’t seem to focus clearly enough. The faint beeping of a heart monitor made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. She was back in the lab, but the restraints on her wrists suggested that she had never left at all. 

Sharp crackles of pain surged through her body, causing the ex-pilot to cry out in pain for a brief moment before a rogue hand traced her jawline and calmed her down. It wasn’t Moira’s; the fingers were too large and calloused, nails far too short to be the talons of the doctor. Lena tried tilting her head up to see who was petting her, but gave in to the pain that seemed to match the pace of the subtle beeping in the background. 

“Moira, she’s awake.” The voice above her called out, and Lena shut her eyes. She heard the familiar pace of the doctor’s flats and shook her head slightly. “Nh-no…” 

“Quiet, Oxton.” The voice of the doctor snapped, causing Lena to wince in fear of a punishment. “Yes, Akande. She’s awake, and all ready to be examined~” 

“Good. I want to meet my new agent.” The man above her responded, his hand grazing Lena’s ear. 

“Lena, sit up.” The doctor commanded, holding a remote in her hand. When Lena didn’t respond, she frowned, jerking down the switch that was located in the center of the device. A sharp pain in the back of her skull made Lena cry out, forcing her to obey Moira’s previous orders without hesitation. “Such a good girl~”

“What is this, Moira?” The man asked, his fingers hooking under Lena’s chin, forcing her to stare into his large brown eyes. “I told you, no experimenting.” 

 

Doomfist. The Scourge of Numbani, the man who ripped her from her own timeline. The man who kidnapped her, advocated for her torture. The whole reason why she was here in the first place. 

Lena panicked, attempting to pull her head back from his deathly grip. 

“You…”

He smiled at her. “Me.” 

“Enough gabbering, I need to take some blood.” Moira muttered, shooing Doomfist away from her prized possession. “Lena, arm out.” 

Lena held out her right arm, frowning when Moira’s needle passed through her tender skin after being wiped down with an alcohol pad. The doctor worked quickly and efficiently, extracting the exact amount of blood needed for her plan. Doomfist kept examining her from a distance, crossing his arms and grunting in approval as she obeyed Moira’s commands. 

“So, Akande. Do you like her?” The madwoman asked as she fiddled with the sample. 

“She’s fantastic, Moira. I couldn’t expect any better from you.” Doomfist smiled at Lena, which made her glance down towards the floor. Something inside her told her that this wasn’t right; this wasn’t normal. But static replaced it shortly, the faint beeping still keeping itself in a steady pace in the background. 

“Oh, Akande, you know I always make good work of my toys. And since she seems to be advancing quite quickly, and you have been ever-so kind to me, I’m handing the reins,” She paused, holding out the remote in her hand, “To you, dear colleague.”

He tossed the remote in the air, chuckling when Lena winced as he ran his thumb over the switch located in the center. “I knew she would become my favorite, one way or another.” Doomfist said darkly, walking closer to the ex-pilot once Moira had left her alone. “Do you have what it takes to become one of us? One of Talon?”

“You...you chipped me.” Lena stared at him, breathless. She rubbed the back of her head, and indeed, a patch of baldness covered the smallest bump that protruded from her skin. 

“Indeed. The beeping will stop once it settles in.” Moira said, disposing of the gloves she was wearing. “I told you to behave, Oxton. It appears I could not get a good enough grip on you. Your hair will grow back, but I’m sure that’s not what you care about…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Doomfist stepped back and crossed his arms, “You should be thankful, Tracer. We saved you from Overwatch. Tell me, do you have what it takes?” 

“...saved me? From what?” Lena asked, running her fingers through her hair. 

“We decided that out of all the current Overwatch agents, you were by far the most useful. I’ve been personally watching you ever since our fight in Numbani. I ripped you out of time itself and you still bounced back, ready to fight. You’re determined, energetic. Reckless, even. Perhaps overconfident. I knew that I needed you on my side in order to make my plans work.” 

“What are you going to do to my family?” Lena stared him down, trying to make her unimpressive height seem bigger than she actually was. Doomfist smirked, sliding her remote into his coat pocket. 

“Overwatch’s recall has gotten in the way of my plans for the longest time. You almost ruined my attack on Numbani, or my agent’s assassination of that damn Omnic leader. Almost.” He said, eyeing her sickly figure up and down. “I made sure you were contained before I tried anything else.”

“You see Oxton, at first Talon wanted your powers. Time manipulation? Priceless. Once we figured out that we couldn’t use your powers without your condition of Chronal Disassociation, Akande settled for turning you into our weapon instead.” Moira smiled, resting a hand on Lena’s shoulder. “I’ve been focusing on breaking you, but it seems like you’ll need more work. I was hoping the sheer torture would fix you up, and you wouldn’t want to be another Widowmaker, would you?” 

“You wouldn’t…” Lena flinched at the contact, trying her best to distance herself from the two villans beside her. 

 

Akande flashed a grin of perfect white teeth. “Oh, we would. Like I said before, you should thank us. You won’t be a part of the massacre that will take place a week from now. The United Nations has reconsidered vetoing the Petras Act, which will be detrimental to our cause. We need you, Lena. And you don’t have a choice in this matter. You will kill as many people as we require to get our point across, that the world doesn’t need Overwatch.” 

“What do you say, Lena.” The doctor chided, squeezing her shoulder. Talon’s newest agent only looked up to her new commander and smiled. 

“You’re gonna have to kill me first.”


	4. Changed

Months passed, and things only got worse for Lena Oxton. The beatings would often leave her feeling hopeless, her sure feeling that Overwatch would come for her slowly fading away with each lash that struck her face. Moira would always cup her cheek and give her an apologetic brush on the tip of her nose before hooking her up to her painkillers. The morphine addiction also grew with her in these past weeks. Each night while she was hooked up to an I.V, she would wander the Talon Base, growing more and more accustomed to the dingy halls that seemed to lead to nowhere.

When she wasn’t being tested on, she was resting. Each sleep she was forced into with the Doctor’s drugs was terrifying, her mind swarming with memories that slowly faded over time.

Nightmares.

Emily.

Overwatch.

**Moira**

It took another month for Lena to realize that she wasn’t being saved.

Now, she was lying on an all too familiar operating table, her nails digging crescent moons into her sweaty palms. Moira had told her about a schematic that would take away the bulkiness of her outer Chronal Accelerator, creating a newer, faster version of her.

“You’re our weapon. Don’t ever forget that, Oxton.” She would say.

 

Lena’s retorts were met with a quick slap across the face. Discipline, the doctor would tell her, was one thing that she severely lacked.

The chip in the back of her skull throbbed in pain as she shifted her neck, trying her best to tug against the restraints that kept her belted to the table. It didn’t matter. She always lost in the end.

“Calm down, Oxton. It’ll only hurt more if you resist.” Came that all-too-familiar voice from the doctor. Her talons carefully caressed her cheek before she slipped a pill past Lena’s lips. Painkillers. A beautiful addiction that brought Lena even closer to her. The doctor pressed a light kiss to her pet’s forehead, grinning at her whimpers as she was slowly dragged down into her routine of sleep.

“Now, close your eyes and dream such wonderful things, darling~.” The doctor cooed, wedging a strap of leather in between Lena’s teeth. “If it starts hurting, just bite down. This won’t take long. Once I’m done, you’ll have a nice, clean slate to start from.” She teased, knowing fully well that Lena wouldn't be able to feel anything she had planned. The doctor merely liked the look of sheer terror on her subject's face as she injected her with more painkillers.

The Brit slowly began to nod off, back into her realm of nightmares and memories that were slowly drifting away. Moira only grinned and began the procedures she had planned for today.

“Let’s see…” She muttered to herself as she unclasped the Chronal Accelerator from her pet’s chest. “Vitals seem stable…”

 

And then she got to work. The doctor slowly lifted the Accelerator from Lena’s chest, cautiously watching to see if her image would flicker. She counted ten seconds on the clock before reaching for Lena’s wrist, feeling a steady pulse beat underneath her calloused fingers. Her pet was ready.

Moira’s steady hands slowly removed the outer protection of the chestpiece, carefully removing the central power cell that kept Lena anchored to the present. Yes, she had learned all about her issues with her condition, thanks to Sombra's information hack on Overwatch Intel. She had even experimented with the Chronal Disassociation a bit, but never got too risky with the Accelerator. She was a Geneticist, not an Engineer, after all.

Next, came the incisions. The doctor carefully cut around markings she had made earlier, cauterizing the wounds as she worked. Moira’s eyes darted around the area she had cut, making sure all was well before she completely opened up Lena’s chest so that she could cut through the breastbone. Beneath it lied the organ she was after, Lena’s heart. Yes, she would find a way to connect the Chronal capsule to the heart, which would make recharging the Accelerator a thing of the past.

“Níl ach braon beag fola ort…” She muttered in a singsong manner, slowly cutting around the heart she sought for. Moira remained calm and contained, working with dexterity as she replaced her breastplate with sterile metals designed to keep the Chronal capsule in place.

Hours passed, and yet the doctor still worked cautiously and strict to medical regulations, unlike her usual experiments with the labrat. Everything had to be perfect.  
\--  
With the drop of a scalpel, Moira is done. Hair disheveled, sclera red from a lack of blinking. The slightest inconvenience could seriously alter her work, you know. Red light flickers on and off inside the device implanted in Lena's chest for a brief moment before it stabilizes. The doctor places a faceplate over the exposed core and screws it in, only allowing a few bits of crimson light to shine out from the metal cylinder she planted inside of the Brit. Lena’s unconscious figure begins twitching as life is restored to her battered body. The core inside her sputtered as her eyes opened.

“Oh little pet, you’re awake~” Moira cooed, running her mangled hand through Lena’s messy locks, “You might need some more morphine, dear. This experiment is going to hit you like a truck later in the day…”

As the doctor cackled to herself, Lena tilted her head back, staring up at the fluorescent white lights that shone above her.

Nobody was coming to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, tried squeezing this one in while working on more projects for you guys! Stay tuned for more updates and such...
> 
> anyways, shorter chapters mean more chapters, right? Right??
> 
>  
> 
> *sweats*


	5. Rancor

The Reaper would only knock once on the Medical Unit door before he would turn around and forget this whole plan. He couldn’t risk being caught, and he knew very well that the punishment would be even worse for Oxton if she was seen trying to leave without permission. Hell, that very lesson was drained into his own head years ago, and he still had awful memories from it. 

No reason crying over his own problems, though. 

After what he’s done? He didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself. 

Gabriel rapped his knuckles against the steel door, pressing his ear to the wall to try and hear what was going on in the lab. He knew that Oxton was in there alone; he watched Moira leave way too often to not memorize her schedule. It was only a matter of her opening the door. 

“Oxton…” He growled, slamming his fist into the door again. “Open the damn door. Don’t make me tell you twice.” 

The door creaked open once the Reaper pulled back for another punch, a set of glossy hazel eyes peering at him through the cracks. 

She’s gotten...thinner. Paler too. The Reaper chokes back a noise once Lena hesitantly opens the door completely. Her sunken face only stares up at him, expecting something. He fights the urge to embrace her and run. 

It’s true that Talon used the best technology in order to condition their agents into mindless killing machines, but even Moira’s experiments only yielded temporary results. The emotions he was able to feel, the memories he was allowed to keep, all hard-fought and won in a war he had with himself. 

The Reaper was reverting. 

Gabriel stared down at Lena with a sense of shame hidden behind his mask, the only thing shown to her was the bitter reality that he chose to hide behind, like the coward he was. 

It pained him to look at her like this, all mangled and starved like this. The moment that he moved forward sent a chill down Lena’s spine, causing her to yelp and jump back in fear. Something clenched in the Reaper’s chest as he eyed her, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest when she took in a deep breath. He felt a little embarrassed staring her down in what little clothing she had on; only a pair of sterile cotton briefs and a matching brassiere, but it showed him all the wrongness of her body. Her ribs were bruised, her collarbones matching the sunken look in her eyes. 

“Lena…” He cast his eyes down to the floor, not bearing to look at her any longer. “I’m...I’m so sorry…”  
What else could he say as he heard what sounded like a sob being forced back into her throat?

It was sobering as he saw Lena tremble when he reached out a taloned hand in her direction. It was heartwrenching when she almost started to break down and cry. Touching her now seemed...prederatory. Like she didn’t trust him enough to even wipe her tears away. And why would she? He, the Reaper, was the face of her kidnapping. He was the reason why she was in this miserable place, and why Moira was voted by the council to have full precedence over Tracer’s reconditioning. They would break her down completely before building her back up.

And now his decisions were staring him right in the face. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lena beat him to it. 

“What do you want…” 

He could have cried. 

“Oxton...I just wanted to check up on you--” He reached out to her, but she stepped back, batting his arm away. 

 

“Go away.” She muttered at him, her overgrown bangs masking her eyes. “The Good Doctor will be furious when she finds out that I allowed you in. If you have a medical emergency, you need to take it up with her.” 

The Reaper caught the doorframe with his toe as Lena tried to slam it shut, hissing in pain. Although she appeared weaker, the power behind the door slam was enough to make tears water at his eyes. 

“You’ve changed, Oxton.” He growled, clenching his fists. “What did she do to you?”

“More than Overwatch ever did for me.” She responded casually, walking around the room shakily. “They hate me, did you know? Or were you too busy regretting that you kidnapped me?”

This time, it was Gabriel that slammed the door in her face, stomping out of the medical unit and away from the sight of anyone who might cross paths with him. Anger burned in his veins as he trudged along the halls of the base, cursing to himself. 

How STUPID he was for thinking that he could just walk out with Oxton in his arms, a choir singing ‘Hallelujah’ as they skipped away from this torment. What a BUFFOON. What a WASTE of a life, if you could call this living. 

He threw his mask to the side, letting his face fall into his gloved hands, the tips of his claws tracing the outline of his eyelids.   
His addiction to pain was getting to him. 

His left hand remained on his face, the thumb talon resting on the corner of his right eye. 

Not here, not now.

But the Reaper’s need for suffering was burning him up, and he pressed his thumb into his eye. 

More, more. Harder. Black liquid poured out of the little hole he created for himself as he ripped it further, feeling jelly squish between his gloved fingers. Pain, overwhelming pain, surged through him as his sight blackened. But the Reaper did not cry out in pain. Not even when what remained of his eyeball dangled helplessly on his cheek. 

Smoke surrounded his face, and the pain subdued as his cells began their regeneration. He sat back on his heels, his knees tucked under his quivering body. Gabriel looked up towards the fluorescent lights above him, sucking in a deep breath before feeling the courage to touch his eyes again. 

It regrew. 

He chuckled to himself before tearing it out again, and again, and again and agaIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AG--

He felt a hand on his shoulder, although he could not see whose it was. His eye bounced against his cheek, held to his face by a thread of flesh. The regeneration process happened, but the hand stayed on his shoulder, unmoving. 

Once he regained his sight for the umpteenth time, he turned his head and watched as the pale, bruised hand of his Agent rested daintily on his leather spaulder. 

“What do you WANT, Oxton?” He growled, almost snapping at the hand that pulled away in fear. “Why don’t you go back to Moira like the dog that you are?” 

A hiccup followed his words, Gabriel apologizing silently as soon as he said them. Lena’s silhouette shuddered before touching him again. 

“GO BACK, OXTON. THAT’S AN ORDER.” 

She refused, sinking to her knees alongside him. He turned his head to stare her down, to hit her, to reach into her chest and pull whatever machine Moira implanted in there. Anything to stop this pain. 

B u t y o u l i k e p a i n, d o n ‘ t y o u?

Y O U ‘ R E N O T A V E R Y G O O D P E R S O N, A R E Y O U???

“Oxton…” He rasped, breathless. But she would not respond. Instead of speaking, she held out the mask that he threw aside earlier, waiting patiently for him to take it from her.

“...sorry…” 

Her voice came out like a little bell, and it tingled the hairs on Gabriel’s neck when she spoke so softly, he could almost dismiss the sound as the wind itself. 

Sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry that she had to witness his rancor? That she was in this position? It was HIS fault that she was here, HIS FAULT THAT SHE WAS HERE. 

WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING?

He wanted to scream.

Lena needed food, she needed a place to feel warm and loved again. Her battered body was more than enough to send the monstrous wraith into a frenzy. Gabriel wanted to touch her, wanted to embrace her, but he was terrified that such touches would relieve awful memories of Moira. 

 

He shakily removed a glove, letting his hand rest gently over hers as he took his mask from her. The Reaper almost pulled his hand back with the freezing sensation her skin brought him. 

Ice. 

It seemed that Moira was intending on creating yet another Widowmaker, another Reaper. 

But she would not succeed, not if he had anything to say about it.


End file.
